Dark Tears
by jazzyGORE
Summary: I will write you of my past, of the present and of love and loss. I will drag up my old memories and share them with you, baby. KisaXOC.


Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine :)

A/N: Reviews enjoyed, criticism is welcome… This is a KisaxOC pairing. Kisame isn't in the fiction till the end of this chapter… I know that's annoying and if I saw this fanfic, I definitely wouldn't stop to read it but I believe that my OC needs a background first, and hopefully you will agree. I know that letters do not usually have dialogue – but I can't think of a way to write this without it, so bare with me. And I'm tired of rereading this for mistakes so if you see any, just let me know. Anyways, hope you enjoy it…

Pronunciations:

Sauda : Swa – Duh

Masozi: Mah – So – Zee

Hitomi: Hee – Toe – Mee

Akio: Aa – Key – Oh

* * *

Dark Tears

My lovely Nia,

There are no pauses for the questioning of your morals when fighting for your life. There are no feelings of regret or sympathy when you slit someone's throat. In fact there are no feelings at all in the ninja life, or that's what I chose to believe. This way of thinking is how my life turned out so appalling, but in the end somewhat OK, for now I'm about to have you. This is my story, my life and the small but significant tales within it. Maybe you will choose your path more wisely than I had done once you have read this; for mine was ridden with blood and scars. But if I did not make the significant and unwise mistakes that led me to my path in life, then there would be no lesson to be told, or an example to be set. So take the words written before you into consideration because this could help you determine your own road in life.

I sit in my study writing this on my old, mahogany desk, with candles and coffee at my side. I write this for you, Nia for I have much to tell. I fear that in my childbirth I will die, like my mother had died bringing me to the world and her mother before her. But baby, do not worry for I will write you of my past, of the present and of love and loss. I will drag up my old memories and share them with you; I do not want to leave you without some knowledge of myself, as my mother had done to me. You will not be abandoned like I was and I refuse to believe you will make the same decisions I have done once you have finished reading this. But first let's start off with the beginning.

It started with my crying, and of her death. My mother had given her last shuddering breath as I had slid out of the womb; balling like all other healthy children, unknown to the murder I had just committed. This is how my father came to hate me with his first look, kind of like love at first site. To add on to me causing his love's death, I was also black and he was Caucasian. He named me Masozi Sauda, dark tears and left me to die in the cotton fields when I was one. I do not blame him for this because obviously he was in immense distress but also every time he would look at me he would be reminded of his once loved wife and how she had cheated on him with another man.

This is how I came to meet Akio. Akio was a Japanese man in his late 20's. He was of the Kaguya clan, his brother being Kimimaro who was thought to be the last one alive with a kekkei genkei from the water province. Akio was abandoned at birth for he was a sickly child and thought to be worthless. He was found by an African family that lived in Kirigakure. Later on the family would move back to Africa taking Akio with them. Unfortunately I never met the couple for they had died of old age soon after Akio's nineteenth birthday.

He had seen me in the fields after walking home from the markets, it had been a stormy night and I had been crawling around, believing that my abandonment had been an adventure and that my father would eventually pick me up. He took me home and nursed my skinny self back to a healthy form. The beginning of my life reminded him of his making it easier for him to hold sympathy and compassion for me.

When I was six, Akio decided to move back to his hometown. This was risky but he believed that it would be a better life for the both of us because once we moved back I could enter the ninja academy. He had said to me that I have great balance and speed. That if we did not move my talent would be wasted in result. He reassured me by saying that as long as he kept his kekkei genkei a secret nothing bad would happen. He convinced me so much I had become incautious and unperceptive, so once we moved I would talk about him all the time to my friends and teachers. I would always brag about my father with his white hair and red markings– unbeknownst to me the Mizukage was putting two and two together, and so were the villagers and the ninja. I did not think that they could make the connection, and they would not for several years. The Kaguya clan was supposed to be dead; they should believe what the legends told them.

When I was eight I graduated from the ninja academy and was promoted to Genin. . My skin made me an outcast, so my joyous youth had faded fast with the prejudice. I became more cautious in what I said, talking very little and listening intently to whatever the higher up ninja's would share with me. I was on a team with two others; I have completely forgotten their names for they were killed on a mission before I even had time to remember. The sensei I was assigned had felt immense guilt over their deaths and killed himself for the "wrong" he had done. I was left stranded for awhile, the Mizukage had conveniently forgotten that I needed a team, and left me on my own. Akio helped me and taught me until the chunin exams came around, he insisted that I enter. I was lucky there was another team who only had two people; I was able to tag along with them. I was the only one to graduate in that class, even though I was the youngest. The judges grudgingly admitted that I had as much promise as Zabuza Momochi, one of the seven swordsmen of the mist who graduated six years before me. I do not know if this was a compliment to my skill or a prediction of my future.

My father rewarded my accomplishments with my own blade, specially crafted with his bones. It was long and beautiful and sharp; Pure white, even the hilt, and it had a mind of its own. In the blade he carved out _ひとみ_beautiful wisdom – Hitomi. At the end of the hilt were two dark red ribbons, which would grow longer every time the blade drank blood, for everytime it would slice through its victims the marrow inside the bone would drink up the blood transferring it to the ribbons. This allowed me to use it as a long range weapon. Easily flicking it around, like a spear because the ribbon was rigid unless you willed it to bend. The ribbon could be transformed to drops of poison. If anyone were to touch the blade's ribbons without my permission, they would die. My father carefully explained this to me and taught me how to befriend Hitomi. Hitomi learned to trust me and eventually would wrap around my waist with its ribbons, remaining there.

My Chunin days didn't last long before I was promoted to Jonin. My first kill happened during that time. I still remember the screams and the cries of desperation from the woman I had sliced open. I had to interrogate her, and she would not give up information. I remember her face and nothing else. That worthless, pitiful face, one so weak I was revolted by it. After that I swore to never use Hitomi again, and instead of becoming a special jonin, I took the job of hunting down missing nin. This new job I had taken up was simply killing, give me a target and I could kill him as long as I didn't have to speak to the victim or kill them slowly. No talking, no cries was what I wanted. Quick slice of the neck and it was all over was my ideal mission. I had tracked down many who had forfeited their allegiance to the village.

I felt no passion in what I was doing and felt no loyalty to my _own_ home. I was not one of them and I did not belong with them, and they thought the same of me. My dark skin had made me a disturbing part of the society, striking fear in the villagers and even trepidation from the Mizukage. Yes, my all black uniform with a standard issue mask covered most of my skin, allowing me to blend in more readily with the crowd – but they knew who was behind the mask for I was well known. I was one of the best hunternin in the village, the stopped usage of my emotions made me stronger but lonelier. Akio and I had become distant, barely seeing each other. We acted as if we were mere acquaintances, no longer father and daughter. I did not see him much, and if I did what was I to talk about? I had refused myself of emotions. No more happiness or humor.

The day I will never forget is the day two of the most important things happened to me. I had been assigned to track down Zabuza Momochi, but alas when I found his whereabouts he was in the ground. I was reminded of how the Mizukage was afraid of my "father" and I. Immediately I was able to piece together that the Mizukage already knew that Zabuza was dead, and did not need me to kill the famous swordsman or his student. After figuring this out, I got back to the house from the Naruto Bridge in the matter of hours, for even though I believed that I had no emotions, something in my chest tugged, my stomach grew weak and my face felt clammy. I still had a bond with that man even though I tried to deny it. He had raised me.

I found blood spattered over the outside of the house. The walls were painted with blood, but I did not see any bodies. What I did see was chakra. There was chakra all over, in the shadows and outside of the house. Knowing that the people whose chakra I was seeing had just killed my father, my emotions had flooded back with a vengeance; I remembered everything that we had been through and everything that he had done for me. My knees had weakened from the pain of remembering; I fell to the ground on my knees struggling to breath, ripping off my mask in an attempt to get air into my system faster. I felt as if I had been strangled and my throat had closed up. My teeth were clenched; I was straining to hold back the tears. I felt my blood pound in my veins and my chakra bubble. I knew that the ninjas whose chakra I had sensed had waited for me to come home after they had killed my father. I grew enraged, hungry for blood. I would not be afraid of their screams anymore for I wanted to hear them. I wanted to see their pitiful faces and hear their last agonizing breath, feel their heart stop beating in their chests. I wanted revenge.

Hitomi unwrapped from my waist knowing that I wanted to use him. I had grabbed him in my hand before he fell to the ground. I transitioned into the dance that I had used so often when Hitomi was in my grasp. By using my speed and stealth to kill the first few victims, I allowed the ribbons to grow longer in my hand. I would wrap the first ribbon around the blade until it had covered it all. Once I lengthened out the other ribbon to form the long pole like that of a spear, the ribbon on the blade would turn to poison. I could kill dozens at a time with this technique and it was my favorite by far.

I would grow crazier and have a higher lust for blood every time I sliced off a head or watched someone die from the instant poison. I reveled in the blood that soaked my clothes, and splattered my mask. This was my element and their pitiful cries fueled my enjoyment. I hadn't had that much fun in a long time. I tore up all of the ninja with my blade, laughing at the happiness that overflowed within me. They never once got me with their own weapons, for Hitomi and I had been too quick and they had been scared of my insane laughter. After all the waves of the ninja were killed, I ran. I ran so fast and long but I never looked back. My sanity had finally returned, and I was feeling disgusted with myself for what I had done. Tears had streamed down my cheeks from self loathing. The carnage repeated in my head like a broken record, every time making bile rise in my throat. My thoughts of the killing had blocked out all other feelings, even the pain springing up from my legs and chest from the continual hopping from tree to tree.

And then I saw them. They were wearing black cloaks with read clouds and hats that covered their faces. I stopped on the tree in front of them, collecting myself. I would not let these strangers get the satisfaction of me crying, for my mask was still off. By their immense chakra that suffocated me with its power, I knew that they where dangerous but my pride wouldn't let me turn or run away. I would not back down from them.

"Itachi.. What should we do with her?" the taller man of the two asked the other in a grizzled voice. The man that was apparently called Itachi turned to look at the other man.

"If you want to kill her, do so fast. I'm going on." He replied in a soft, masculine voice. He disappeared before I could even track him. He had earned my respect already.

"Onna, would you like to play?" The large man asked in a mocking tone. He thought I was weak because I had been crying. Obviously he ignored the blade at my waist.

"Hn. As long as you let me have some fun…"

"Sure little one." He said in a light tone, obviously amused. And then he advanced. He swung his huge sword off his back which effectively unwrapped the bandages around the blade and lunged at me with quick, precise movements. Hitomi was already in my hands when his blade came at me. I blocked it with ease, and knocked his hat off. He was blue. It was shocking.

"…You're blue. That's different." I had told him while dodging another one of his attacks.

"Obviously... I have gills too onna." He growled, he wasn't too amused now. He tried to cut me again with his huge blade, but once again I had blocked it. Hitomi had tingled every time I touched the blue man's blade. I assumed that he was doing it out of enjoyment.

"Ooo, very nice. Mind if I cop a feel?" I murmured in a sultry tone. Even if I had little to no social interaction, this man brought out my talkative side. I had decided that poison was the only way to go with this fight, and that long range was no option. He would be able to outmatch my spear form with his quick movements. So I started wrapping the ribbons around the blade. When I looked down I noticed that instead of their normal red they were green and they sensed of chakra. I moaned out of exasperation. What the hell had happened?

"I'm all yours, girl… if you can get to me." I had been distracted with the ribbons; they had puzzled me with their color. He used my distracted mind to his advantage. He swiftly moved behind me and sliced down my back. I let out a scream from the pain. It was gut-wrenching and was the loudest thing to come out of my mouth in ages. "That's not going to stop you is it onna? I don't think I'm ready to end our game just yet."

"Fucking bastard…" I managed to spit out the reply from my gritted teeth. I hadn't felt that much pain in such a long time, and it was strikingly different than all the other times I had been sliced. It was as if not only my skin had been shaved off and my blood being allowed to flow out of the wound but something else as well, and then I put it together. His blade sucked up chakra, and every time my blade hit his, the marrow in Hitomi would suck up the chakra from his weapon. When I realized this, I knew I was screwed. But nether the less, I bit my lip to stifle the pain and carried on. I wanted to cut the fish boy no matter how much time and pain it took. I jumped down to the forest floor, allowing the shadows to mask my presence just for a few seconds.

"You have a higher resistance to pain than I thought…" He muttered, taken aback. He must have thought I couldn't handle it.

I ignored his comment, not wanting to spare the energy that I needed, to talk and let him know where I was. I used the new chakra soaked ribbons to my advantage and wrapped some around my back, allowing the chakra to seep into the wound effectively healing it. "I'm not done with this game just yet, fish boy. So don't assume that you have the upper hand." I jumped off the floor and leapt silently from branch to branch till I got to his. He turned around noticing my presence, but he wasn't fast enough for I was able to run a gash along his side. At last my blade had supply for the poison I so desperately needed and his intake of breath was music to my ears. For that little gasp was the equivalent to my scream.

And then my mind went blank…


End file.
